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I'm Mike Taylor and I was watching an apartment complex. That’s what I was being paid to do, I’m a private investigator. My mission was to record the coming and going of a man whose estranged wife believed he was up to no good. I had been watching the apartments off and on for two weeks and had come to know who belonged and who didn’t. Up to this point the subject of my surveillance came home from work went in to his apartment and stayed there until he left for work the following morning. From what I could tell he was behaving himself. In fact he was boring as hell.
The woman in the apartment above him was a hot to trot blonde and she was rowdy enough for several people, but no one was paying me to keep up with Blondie which I considered a shame.
I had noticed that the apartment at the far end of the two story strip was occupied by a large impressive black man. I also noticed that the big black man didn’t lack company and like the blonde he seemed to be a social creature. Both the blonde and the black were active, but my subject was about as active as a turnip.
I had reported to my client that there didn’t appear to be any hanky-panky, but she insisted that I continue on. She was paying so I was staying. I also was hoping that I didn’t die from shear boredom.
I knew from watching the apartment that the trash collectors would be coming early the next morning so I made plans to come back during the night and collect my clients husband's trash. I recognize that it’s not very noble, but as a rule it’s very educational. People have this stupid mind set that if they wad it up and toss it, that it’s gone for good. Nothing could be further from the truth. Never, never throw anything away that you don’t want the world to know. If it has your name or any identifying numbers, such as account numbers, credit card numbers, bank records, best shred or otherwise destroy it before you toss it
I arrived back at the apartments about three in the morning. My thinking was that everybody should be in bed by that time. I was right about that. The neighborhood was as quite as a tomb, but I had made one slight miscalculation....none of the trash containers were marked. I didn’t know which belonged to the subject of my investigation. Like a good scout I was prepared so I bagged all the trash from each of the six large cans.
There were eight apartments, but two were empty, so I had six large trash bags to search.
I decided to wait until later in the morning, at a civilized hour, to check the trash bags. I took a shower and went to bed. I remember smiling as I drifted off to sleep, wondering what the city trash collector would think when they came to eight empty containers.
I got up at the crack of noon and was soon hard at work on the trash bags. I quickly identified the first three by mail that had been carelessly thrown away. The forth container was not from my subjects apartment, but it was, by far, the most interesting. There were two large photo albums and nine video tapes cassettes. A quick examination of the photo albums aroused my interest. The big black man and apparently some of his black male friends, were photographed in all types of action shots with white women. There was a wide variety of action, twosomes, threesomes and group shots. All were of black men and white women. This type activity is one of my things and I have long recognized that I am a voyeur. I guess all investigators and photographers are voyeurs if they’ll admit it. I lay the photos and tapes aside and continued what proved to be a fruitless search of the rest of the trash. My subject had thrown nothing incriminating away, but I wasn’t too surprised. I had a suspicion that the poor man was just trying to get away from the woman he had married.
It was Saturday so I decided to go and watch the apartments for a while. My subject was off on weekends so I reasoned that if he was going to do anything it would be today.
Just as I parked my car I saw the big black man come running down the sidewalk from his apartment. He ran to the trash contained and threw off the lid. Empty was not what he apparently wanted to see because he pick up the container and slammed it back to the sidewalk.
I could hear him cussing as he slammed the trash container down again and again. A young black woman came running up to him apparently trying to calm him. He picked her up and slammed her down just like he did the trash container.
Unhurt, she bounced to her feet and attacked him. I got out of the car, not to intervene, but to hear what they were saying. I not a coward, but when I said this man was big I mean really big.
“You stupid cunt bitch!” He shouted, slapping her. “You threw away a million bucks and a lot of fine pussy. I’ll kill you, you bitch!”
“You don’t need ‘dem white bitches,” The small woman cried, hitting him on the chest with ridiculously small fists. “You got me!”
“I ain’t got shit ‘cause you’re dead, you stupid bitch.” He had her lifted by the neck and had drawn back a meaty fist.
Coward that I am, I couldn’t just stand and watch so I started across the street to stop what I believed was going to be a murder . Just as I pulled my trusty gun out of its holster I saw the police car pull up.
The big man saw the cops about the same time I did and he threw the woman at them. She literarily flew through the air like a rag doll. Big man whipped a big gun out of his belt.
Two black cops jumped out of the patrol car and yelled for the black man to freeze. He didn’t, but I dammed sure did. I didn’t like the way this was shaping up at all. By my count there were three black men all with guns and one puny white private eye. I slowly squatted down between two cars and carefully peeked over the back fender.
The big man carefully took aim and shot one of the cops. I couldn’t believe it. He just stood there and shot the cop. The other cop started shooting and I guess he shot the big man five or six times before the hulk fell. I put my gun back into the holster and stayed where I was. I knew from my own experience that the surviving cop had adrenalin pumping in by the buckets and he was very likely to shoot anything and anybody that surprised him.
Soon the place was crawling with cops and ambulances and fire trucks. I casually drifted over to where all the action was. I recognized one of the plain clothes cops. His name is Richard (don’t call me Dick) Elliott. He’s real touchy about the name.
“Hi Dick,” I said. “What’ch got goin’ on?”
“What the hell you doin’ here?” he growled. I think he likes me, but is afraid to show it.
“Aw Dick,” I said. “That ain’t no way to talk to your star witness. I saw this evil deed and I am ready to stand up and be counted.”
One of the paramedics stepped up, “Lieutenant, your officer is going to be okay, but the other man is dead.”
Dick grunted, “What about the woman? She going to be all right?”
“Yeah, we are going to transport, but she’ll be okay, I think.” the paramedic said. “Mostly abrasions and some bruising.
Dick Elliott turned to me, “Well ass, let’s have it. What did you see?”
We are such good friends. He used to call me asshole but now he has shortened it. Sort of like a nickname. I told him what I had seen. He seemed satisfied that it was a “good shooting”.
“You know his name?” I asked.
“Yeah, Darrel Green. Called himself “ Hammer”. Got a rap sheet ‘bout four yards long. Mostly small crap. Pulled a couple years for armed robbery sometime ago.” He cocked an eye at me “Why are you so interested?”
“Oh just nosey,” I answered casually. “Been watching this place for a while. Lot of women going to be unhappy he’s dead.”
“I guess,” He answered. “Vice seems to think he had some amateur hookers he was pimpin’ for. Don’t matter now I guess.”
“Not to “ Hammer”,” I said.
I made a trip to the police station where a bored stenographer took my statement. I signed all three copies and bid my friends good day.
I decided to go by the apartments again just to take a look around. My client’s old man had not even come out during all the excitement. To be honest it was my curiosity about the late Hammer that led me to his apartment.
I casually strolled around the area for a while before approaching the dead mans apartment. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t to find the apartment door standing slightly ajar.
I eased the door open with the barrel of my gun and was met with the small black woman Hammer had used as a shot put. She squealed and I nearly shit. I don’t know who was the most surprised.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded gruffly.
“I live here,” She said, her eyes darting around, coming to rest on my pistol.
“No you don’t.” I said. “Who are you and what do you have there?” She was holding a brown attaché case made of some kind of reptile skin and she was backing up as I entered the room.
“Tell me now or later down town,” I bluffed. “Up to you.”
“I’m Betty,” She said her voice quivering. “Betty Harrison. My ...er...ah...boyfriend lives...er...ah...lived here.” Tears started down her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and there were several darker places on her face and arms. There was a band aid over one eye.
“What’s in the case?” I demanded. “Drugs?”
“I don’t know,” She answered sitting the case down and taking a step away from it. “I was just going to keep it until.....” Her voice trailed off.
“Until you could peddle the drugs?” I asked, trying to sneer. Frankly I doubted that Darrel Green, A.K.A. Hammer, was a dealer. I hadn’t seen any activity that would indicate drugs and I can usually spot it.
“No, no I don’t have anything to do with drugs,” She said. “I don’t know what’s in the case.”
“You are lying,” I said. It’s very hard to do the “good cop/bad cop” thing when you are by yourself, so I was just doing the bad cop half of the routine.
“Just some papers,” She cried. “I swear that’s all I know ‘bout. It’s locked and I ain’t got a key.”
“What kind of papers, Betty?” I asked. “If it’s locked how do you know what’s in it?”
“I saw Darrell put some papers in it this morning just...just before...ah...you know.”
“Did the cops talk to you?’ I asked.
“What’ch mean?” she asked. “Ain’t you a cop?”
Opps, “Of course,” I snapped. “I mean the other cops.”
She stilled looked at me suspiciously. “Yeah, some. They asked me what I knew about Darrell.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told ‘em that Darrell hated cops, ‘specially black cops.”
That shouldn’t come as any sunrise to the men in blue. “Did you tell them why Darrell would start shooting at the cops.”
She shook her head slowly. “I guess nobody will ever know that. He was pretty mad at me and I guess he just flipped. I don’t know.”
“Why was he mad at you?”
She shrugged her shoulders, but didn’t answer.
“Come on Betty,” I said gently. “Let’s get this over with here and now without anybody getting hassled.”
Betty Harrison gave a big sigh and then started talking.
“I threw some dirty pictures and tapes away. Darrell was pissed at me for that.”
“What kind of dirty pictures?” I asked.
“Darrell had a bunch of white sluts that was ho’in’ for him. Him and some of his buddies took pictures of them doing all that stuff. I got mad and threw them in the trash. They was already gone when Darrell found out about it.”
“What do you mean, “whoring for him”?
“You mean you don’t know what ‘ho’in’ is?” she said cutting her eyes at me.
“I know what it means,” I said. “What do you think it means?”
“He’d make dates with black men for them to go fuck. Then he would collect money. What’s that sound like to you?”
I had to smile even if she was getting over her initial fear. “Sounds a lot like whoring to me,” I said. “What’s in the case you were sneaking off with?”
Betty Harrison shrugged her shoulders again, “Names I guess” she said. “Phone numbers, addresses. I don’t know for sure. Darrell was careful not to let me see what all was there.”
“Where are you from, Betty?” I asked.
“Greenville, South Carolina,” She answered. “Darrell was going to marry me, he said he was!”
“Yeah, I guess he was,” I said slowly. “Go home to Greenville, South Carolina, Betty Harrison. There ain’t nothing here for you now.”
I watched Betty walk down the sidewalk and when she had turned the corner I made a quick inspection of Hammer’s apartment. It was a nice apartment and it was full of stereo equipment and all kinds of electronics. I figured as soon as the word got out that Hammer was no longer among the quick, his stuff would quickly vanish. Since I’m not a thief I left the apartment pretty much as I had found it. Of course I took the attaché case with me.
The photo albums were a pornographer’s dream come true. Most of the women were decent looking and a few were dammed good looking. On average, not a bad crop of females. The men were all black and hung so as to shame a pony. One of the black gents had a dick that must have been at least a foot long and as big around as a beer can.
The video tapes were a lot more of the same, but with action and sound. One woman in the videos and the still photos had caught my attention. She was tall, about five seven or eight and built like the proverbial brick shit house. It was apparent that she really like to fuck and she seemed to specialize in double penetration. One dick in her cunt and another in her ass. In one of videos she had one in each orifice and one in each hand. Three holes and two hands. Come on boys, no waiting.
In spite of her carnal activities she seemed to have some style and class. On one of the videos she appeared in, she was wearing, briefly, some expensive and tasteful clothes.
Hammer’s locked briefcase slowed me down for about twenty seconds. A pry bar soon took care of the locks. It was soon apparent that Hammer was a good record keeper. In printed block letters he listed all the women, a photo of each, and a description of what they would and wouldn’t do for the client. It was also soon apparent that Hammer had little or no problem using blackmail to achieve his goals. It looked like some of the people was sending monthly cash payments to my good buddy Darrell. The others put out for Darrel, his friends and a few good customers. Darrell charged anywhere from $100.00 to $1000.00 for the services of his whores.
The briefcase also contained a package of cash. A quick count showed that to be twenty-five thousand bucks. No wonder Hammer was so pissed off at the world. “Hammer” had lost his leverage for blackmail that apparently was a pretty good income producer.
I got up and got myself a beer and sat contemplating the situation. I had the names, addresses and phone numbers of fourteen women who were either paying off in cash or pussy and making ol’ Hammer a good living. The obvious question was...what was I going to do about it?
After several cool ones I still had not fully decided, but I had a fair idea that I was going to help myself to some of Hammer’s Pussy.
I went to the post office and got a change of address form from the help-your-self counter. I filled it out, listing the new address for Darrell Green as my post office box. I didn’t use my box all that often, but I had open it when I was an optimistic, new PI. I filled in Darrell’s name and also Hammer and scrawled a few other names in the blanks for “others”. I back dated the form a few days. Of course I was aware that if Hammer had a postal box somewhere then this wasn’t going to work, but hope does spring eternal.
Having set my course, I went back to Hammers apartment and after determining that there still wasn’t any activity I slipped the lock that I had set and went it. Mr. Green did have call forwarding so I forwarded his calls to my non-business number. I scouted around and found an old telephone bill. Hammer was a couple months in arrears, but what the hell I had some of his money so I paid the bill and changed the billing address to the post office box. Before I left I went to the service box and disconnected the service line. I went home to look at some photos and wait.
I didn’t have to wait very long. I got several hang up calls the first day and three or four every day for several days before I begun to answer the phone different. The first time I tried my new approach it worked which sure surprised me.
“This is Hammer’s partner. You got business speak, if you don’t then hang up the fuckin’ phone.”
There was a slight pause then a masculine voice said, “Who is this?”
“This is Mike,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Where’s Hammer?” the voice said.
“Hammer is dead,” I said. “Don’t you read the papers?” I didn’t see any point in trying to lie about the obvious.
“Yeah I read the papers. What’ch you know ‘bout Hammer’s business?”
“Everything,” I lied. “What’ch need?”
“Who’s got the stable?”
“I do.” I said. “So what do you need?”
“You got that big titted red-head?”
I scanned the list and photos. There was only one red-head and that was a girl named Carol Miller.
“You mean Carol? Yeah, she still available. Who is this?”
“This is David.” He hesitated just a hair too long. Most people will hesitate before using a name they are not use to using. Also there was not a David on the john list. There was a notation that Carol Miller had visited a person named Tall Man about a month before.
“Wrong answer, Tall Man,” I said and hung up the phone. He called back in a few minutes.
“Hey man,” He said. “Why did you hang up on me?”
“Ain’t got time for the bull shit, Tall Man,” I answered. “We got business, say so.”
“Me and a buddy would like to rent that red-headed gal for a couple hours tomorrow. How much?”
“Same as last time,” I ventured.
“Right,” he said. “Fifty each?”
“I told you Tall man,” I said. “Ain’t got time for the shit. Tell you what, you and your buddy can go fuck each other.”
“Hey wait a minute!” He screamed over the phone. “Don’t hang up. I just forgot. Was it two Hundred?”
“You know it was,” I answered. “How do you want to do it?”
“Same as last time,” The man said.
“That I don’t know,” I said honestly. “You tell me how you did it last time.”
There was just enough hesitation to cause be to think that Mr. Tall Man was about to lie to me again
“She come here to my place in a taxi. We’ll see that she gets home all right.” I didn’t need a stress analyzer to know this cat was lying through his teeth.
“I don’t think so,” I said pleasantly and hung up. Tall Man must have been mad at me because he waited a full five minutes before he tried again.
“Man, if you keep hangin’ up on me I could get pissed off.” He said.
“If you keep jerking my chain you’re for sure gonna piss me off. Let’s try to get this right this time. How does it work?”
Tall Man was in a quandary. I knew some things and I didn’t know some things. He simply didn’t know what I knew or didn’t know. I knew what he was going through. I didn’t have much idea myself.
“Hell, Man,” He said with a great sigh, “We pick the slut up at Hammers and deliver her back there. You best remember that you ain’t the only dude with white bitches!”
“That’s true,” I acknowledge. “But my white bitches ain’t street whores. You got yourself some mighty fine white pussy and no std’s. Here’s the deal, two hundred each for two hours.” I gave him the address of the closed deli across the street from my place. “When do you want this to go down?”
“Tomorrow night, say eight or so. We pay her or you?”
I reasoned that Hammer didn’t want to be seen collecting cash from anybody. “Give it to Carol,” I answered, “She’ll give it to me.”
I had my first pimp deal. All I needed now was a whore. Carol Miller had two phone numbers. One for before five and one after six. It was early so I called the before five number.
“Good afternoon,” said a voice. “Bradford, Bradford and Pope. How may I help you?”
“Carol Miller,” I said.
“This is Carol,” the voice said.
“You got a date tomorrow night at eight.” I said.
“Who is this?” She demanded.
“This is Hammers friend, Mike. I got all the stuff and you got to deal with me from now on.”
“How do I know that?” she demanded to know. Carol Miller was a feisty gal.
“Watch the mail and you might catch the pictures as they come in to Bradford or Bradford or Pope. Oh silly me, of course I would send them to the home addresses. Maybe I could send a couple to your home address, too.” I could tell she was thinking. Was I bluffing or not?
“Hey Carol,” I said. “I really like the one where you and Hammer and that long dick goofy guy were tangled up on the floor. You know the one… where your head was under the coffee table?”
“Oh,” she said a small voice. Her voice changed to a more business like tone. I guessed someone had approached her desk or whatever. “May I have a number to call you back? Should be within the hour” I gave her Hammers old number.
She called back in just a few minutes. “What happened to Hammer”?” she asked.
“He died suddenly,” I said. “I’m the man now. You need to be at this address and ready to party with two studs at eight o’clock Thursday night.”
“Do I collect the same?” she asked.
“Sure you do,” I answered.
“How do I get it to you?” she asked.
“When Tall Man drops you off stay put and I’ll find you.”
“I’m glad it’s Tall Man,” She said. “He’s nice. Who’s the other guy?”
“Beats me. See you Thursday night Carol.” I said hanging up. By God, now I was officially a pimp.
I had checked the post office box every day and it took five days for an envelope to show up in the box. I didn’t see anyone that appeared to be paying attention to me so I took it out. I ripped it open as I made my way to the car. Five hundred buck in cash. There was no return address, but it had a post mark from an outlying community. It matched with the name of Stephanie King. I had already figured out by cross referencing the address, that ol’ Steph King was the wife of Circuit Court Judge, Carl King.
The word of Hammer’s demise apparently had not gotten to the King residence. I knew I needed to contact all the people on Hammers list.
One list was this:
Working Carol Miller- single/Receptionist for Lawyers Paying Stephanie King- Judges wife Working Allison Baker- housewife Working Jan Crane-single/MD Working Lisa Hurst-single/Bank Manager Working Kristi Curry-married/Department store clerk Working Jackie Rupert-married/owner pet store Working Debbie Palmer-married/co-owner health spa Working Beverly Jett-housewife/ husband laid off from work, drunk most of the time Paying Tina Roberts-surgeon’s wife /country club set Working Vicki LaRue- single/unemployed Working Keeli Thomas- housewife/husband works nights in plant Paying Susan Williams- wife of politician big shot Paying Faye Sawyer- wife of factory owner/country club set
On another sheet he listed each ones address and phone numbers and times to contact the women. On a different he listed their sexual likes and dislikes. For example:
Carol Miller likes gangbangs and DP. Good whore
Kristi likes to be forces to fuck. Warms up slow, but will get it on
Vicky needs money and will do anything
Bev is a hot woman. Needs two or three dicks to keep her happy. Old man is a bum.
Debby likes one on one but will lay still for two or more. Good whore
Jackie will run as soon as she sells pet shop. Likes to fuck, but don’t like to whore. Need new pictures
Allison don’t give a fuck. Likes any kind of sex. Good whore.
I scanned some of the photos and printed some, using my computer and sent each of the women a photo of themselves and a letter instructing them to meet with me. I set up times and places all over town.
On the same day I was sending Carol Miller to meet Tall Man and his friend I had my first meeting was with Faye Sawyer. I could see from Hammers records that Sawyer had not paid the agreed amount of a thousand bucks for this month or the previous month.
I waited in the quite little bar for Faye to arrive. She was late, but within the accepted perimeters. When she walked in the door she acted like she owned the joint and couldn’t wait to sell it or give it away.
“Hi Faye,” I said after getting her attention. “Have a seat.”
“I won’t be here long enough to sit.” She said, looking at me as though I had a turd on my face. I could see that Mrs. Sawyer and I were not going to get along very well.
I reached into my briefcase and took a photo of Faye Sawyer giving a black dick a real tongue lashing. It was obviously her and she was enjoying her work. I made sure she saw it and then I got up and went to a bulletin board on the wall beside the jukebox. It was a place for business cards and flyers.
I went back to the table and set down. Faye Sawyer’s face went to deep red to white in a few seconds.
“The others will have your name, address and phone number on them,” I said.
Faye started toward the photo. “Leave it” I snapped. “You can sit down or get the hell out of here.”
She sat. “Please take it down,” she whispered.
“Can’t,” I said. “You have not honored your commitments.”
She was looking over my shoulder toward the photo of her. “Please take it down. I’ll pay you. Hurry! Here comes someone.” A tall black man was going to the restroom and the photo caught his eye. He studied the picture for a minute and then moved on.
“He saw my face,” She hissed. “Take it down this instant!” Mrs. Faye Sawyer was just trying to piss me off.
“Why do you care,” I smiled. “Do you know him?”
“I said I would pay you,” She snapped. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you are a stuck up bitch,” I answered. Faye Sawyer was a good looking woman. I would guess her age at about thirty, but I could be off by a few years either way.
“I don’t know what you want,” She leaned forward and whispered. “I said I would pay you the money. What the hell do you want from me?”
“A blow job,” I answered. “You just sit still and I’ll be back.” I got up and went to the rest room. The tall black man was washing his hands.
“Hi,” I said. “Saw you looking at the photo on the wall. Like that girl?”
“She’s okay,” He said with a shrug. “Seen better, seen worse.”
“Well,” I said. “This is your lucky day. She's right outside and he’s giving blow jobs for five bucks today. You interested?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Hell, even the street whores get more then that. What’s the catch? She one of them chicks with dicks?”
I laughed, “No nothing like that. She’s all woman, but she needs a lesson in manners. If you aren’t interested then forget it.”
“Hey I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” he said hurriedly. “Sure why not. Where and when?”
“Right here and right now, that handicap stall is big enough.” I said. “Stay put and I’ll send her in. Be a few minutes.”
“All right,” I said to Faye Sawyer, “here’s the deal. You go in the men’s room and give the man in there a good five dollar blow job. If you are not back within fifteen minutes with the money, I’ll have your pictures on every break room in Hubby’s factory. Won’t your friends at the Country Club be surprised when your photos show up everywhere.”
She stared at me with open mouth.
“If I was you, Mrs Sawyer,” I said, “I get my ass in there and get to sucking. Your time is running out.”
She glared at me for another thirty seconds and then lowered her head and left the table going toward the men’s room.
A quieter more demure Faye Sawyer came back to the table a little while later. She dropped a five dollar bill in front of me. She sat down without any comment.
“Are we ready to talk business now?” I asked.
She nodded her head.
“You owe me two thousand,” I said. “Counting last month and this month. Do you have it?”
She shook her head, “No not right now. I told Hammer that I was running a little behind and he agreed to let it slide until next month.”
“Bull shit. What did you have to do?” I asked. I was pretty sure that Ol’ Hammer didn’t let anybody completely off the hook.
She blushed, “I had to have sex with him.” I waited. “And some other men and a woman.”
The last part of her statement was so low I barely heard her.
“How much of the debt was that supposed to take care of?” I asked.
“A thousand.” She answered quickly. Much too quickly. Mrs. Sawyer was lying through her pretty teeth.
I stared at her without saying a word. Pretty soon her gaze droped and she said softly, “Five hundred of it,” she said. “He was going to call me and let me know when I could do something about the other five hundred. Then I saw in the paper that he was killed by the police and I thought ...”
“You thought you were off the hook,” I finished for her. I shook my head. “Faye, I’ll honor Hammer’s deal, but you still owe me fifteen hundred. How are we going to work that?”
“I’ll have a thousand of it in a few days. I get a household allowance. I can get a thousand, but not fifteen hundred. Can you...I mean maybe we could do something like Hammer...” I liked this side of Mrs. Sawyer much better.
“Maybe,” I said. The tall black man was sitting in a booth by the windows. He had been trying to get my attention. “Wait here.’ I said getting up.
“How was it?” I asked when I got to his booth.
He laughed, “Worth five dollars,” he said. “Is she a whore?”
“No she’s a woman who owes me some money and a better attitude.” I said “Why, you interested?”
“I would be if she was available,” He said. “Best blowjob I ever had. She really got into it.”
“She still owes me,” I said. “Maybe we could work out something. You ain’t ever going to get another five dollar blowjob. That was to prove who’s boss. A couple hours with her will cost you five hundred bucks.”
“Wow, man,” He said shaking his head. “I’d like that, but the price is too steep. I’m just a working man.”
“I’ll make you a better deal,” I countered, coming up with an idea. “Two hundred and I video it all.”
He looked at me for a few moments then agreed. “I get a copy of the video,” He added.
We arranged a day and time, but I told him I’d have to get back to him on the place. I wasn’t real keen on using my place for a porno session, but I though I knew of a place I could use.
Faye Sawyer resisted for a little while and then gave in. It was only a token resistance. I could see that the prospects of the man’s hard, black cock excited her. I didn’t see any reason to tell her about the video part of the deal. She would just worry. I don’t like my bitches worrying.
I watched from my window as Carol Miller got out of a cab at the corner and walk a spot in front of the closed deli. She only had to wait a few minutes when a car pulled up. Carol stooped and peered into the car. She was apparently satisfied that she knew the occupants and they quickly drove away. I glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes after eight and I had a couple hours to wait until Carols return.
I dialed the number for Lisa Hurst. I had spoke with her early that day and I told her I would be calling her.
“Hello,” a voice said answering the ring.
“Lisa? This is Mike.”
“I really don’t know what this is all about,” She said. “I think you have me mixed up with somebody else.” Well I couldn’t blame her for trying. I had been to the branch bank that she managed and did a comparison with her photo and her reality. One and the same!
“Well,” I said “Maybe I have made a mistake, but I don’t think so. I could send some great photos out to your friends and bank officials and see if they can recognize you.”
There was a silence from the other end of the line for a while then a sigh, “I thought it was over,” she said softly. “Hammer is dead...”
“Yes, but Mike is alive and well, and we have to bravely go on for the sake of Hammer’s memory,” I said interrupting her. “Right now you need to be at 127 Blue Springs Street. You have a meeting with me. Should take you about fifteen minutes to get here.”
I didn’t wait for to acknowledge before I hung up. I needed to get her in a compliance mood.
Lisa Hurst was an unknown element. Hammer’s records, for the most part were well kept, but Lisa and Jan Crane had very little written about them.
I picked Lisa first because she was one of the classier looking women. She had interested me from the very first time I saw her videos and photos. I was waiting by the front window when I saw her slow down in front of my house and then pull to the curb and park.
“Hi, Lisa,” I said opening the door before she got to it. “Come in, I’m Mike. Like a drink?”
“I think I may need one,” She said a slight smile on her face. If she was nervous she hid it well. “Whatever you have will be fine.”
I mixed us a couple of drinks and after handing her the drink I also handed her a stack of photos of her. One of the photos showed her and three black men and one other white woman. I couldn’t make out who the other woman was. She looked at the photos taking a long time with each. After a while she handed them back to me.
“All right so you are now the blackmailer. What now?” Her directness threw me for a moment.
“Business as usual,” I said. “I don’t want you to think of me as a blackmailer,” I continued. “Think of me as a business partner.”
“Ha,” she said with an un-lady like snort. “Some partnership! I do all the fucking and sucking and you get all the money.”
Now that was interesting news. I was getting a feeling that Hammer had not played very fair with his ladies. The records seem to indicate that Lisa was one of the high dollar women. Getting as high as a grand at a time.
“Well,” I said, “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to meet face to face with you. I think it may be time for some changes. What do you get for...ah...?”
“A date?’ she supplied. “Nothing. Not one damn penny.”
“Really,” I said slowly. “I was under the impression that Hammer was a generous employer.”
“Okay, Mike,” she said sitting up a little straighter, “Let’s get one thing straight. I, or none of us, as far as I am aware, consider ourselves employees. The girl’s I know are just like me. We were blackmailed into prostitution. Nothing more or nothing less.”
Lisa Hurst was a very forthright person to say the least. This was going to be harder then I thought. One should also consider that I didn’t have a clue as to what the fuck I was doing.
“Let me ask you a question,” I said “You got into this because you liked fucking black men. Would that be a fair statement?” She nodded her head so I continued. “You are still fuckin’ black men and from the photos, you enjoy it. So what’s the problem?”
“You don’t get it do you?” She snapped. “Before, when I dated black men it was my choice. Now it’s Hammers....or now, I guess it’s yours. You bastards are getting rich and I’m getting nothing. I would like to have some say in it!”
“Would you feel better if you got to keep some of the money?”
“You are dammed right I would feel better about it!” She snapped. “I like to fuck and there is nothing I like better then to meet with some strong black studs and just fuck them until they can’t get it up any more. I just want to get paid for the use of my pussy, mouth and ass!”
“Let’s say,” I said slowly, trying to think as I went, “You keep twenty-five per cent and...”
“I have a better plan,” she said, interrupting me. “Let’s split it fifty-fifty.”
You have to remember that I was new to the blackmail and pimp business. My thought processes were that half of something was a whole lot better then one hundred percent of nothing. I had been having some problems with the white slavery part of the deal. One of the problems of having a stupid conscience I guess.
“Okay, that’s a deal,” I agreed. “Fifty-fifty works for me. Now that is settled let me ask you a question. Who is the other woman in this photo?” I handed her the orgy picture with the unknown woman.
“Oh,” she said glancing at the picture. “Her name is Jan Crane. I’ve worked with her a couple of times.” Lisa smiled at me. “Why? Got an itch for her?”
“No, not an itch,” I said matching her smile. “Curiosity. You both look like you were having fun.”
“Oh yeah, I like working with Jan. She eats pussy like nobody else can.” Lisa said.
“You like having a woman eat you?” I asked.
“Man, there is nothing like having your pussy eaten while being fucked by a hard dick. Can’t hardly get a man to do that,” she laughed. “Or letting a woman suck the cum out after a hard fucking.” She laughed again, “Well I’ll be damned, you’re blushing! I can’t believe it! What kind of pimp are you anyway?”
Trouble was, I was red-faced, but it was because I was getting turned on. I glanced at the clock. We had been talking for a long time. It was almost time for Tall Man to deliver Carol.
“Do you ever work with Carol?” I inquired.
“Carol Miller? Sure, a couple times. She’s not as much fun as Jan, but she is enthusiastic,” Lisa said. “She’ll suck a pussy, but she doesn’t get off doing it like Jan.”
“How about you? Do you eat pussy?”
“Sure,” she said matter-of-factly. “I like a cock better, but I’ll help out a sister if the need is there.” She looked at me closely for a moment, “Are you for real?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I said. For some reason I told Lisa how I came into the deal. Of course I didn’t tell her everything.
“So now you are in the cat bird seat.” She said. “Are you really going to split with us?”
“Sure,” I said. “I do have a problem. Some people are just paying cash. I guess I could stop their payments.”
“Who is paying?” she asked. I showed her the list.
Lisa studied the list for a while, then handed it back to me.
“You don’t get it do you?” she said shaking her head. “They’re not paying to keep Hammer from doing anything. Hammer was being paid to provide black cock. It’s a game with them. I partied with a couple of them and let me tell you they want to pay. Makes them feel better about themselves. Let the dumb bitches keep paying.”
I glanced at the clock again and Lisa caught it. “What? You have a date?”
I explained that I wanted to be in a position to be seen when Tall Man brought Carol back.
“Good ideal to be seen,” Lisa offered, “Hammer did sometimes. Does Carol know she actually going to get paid?”
I shook my head, “It wasn’t discussed. I just assumed that you girls were being paid something.” I stood up, “Think it will make her happy?”
“Ecstatic,” She answered. “I know she is in debt up to her eyes. Are you going to bring her here?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Tall Man is going to drop her across the street. Stick around if you want to.”
“Oh, I’ll stick,” She said laughing. “I want to hear how she made out with Tall Man. I’ve fucked him before. Now there’s a stud who knows what to do.”
I stood in the darken doorway of Spiffio’s old deli and waited for about ten minutes. A late model sports car drove up and a young woman got out. She leaned down to the passengers window.
“Thanks for the fun time, guys,” She said, “You’re both a great fuck. Thanks for the tip, too. See you later.”
The car departed with tires squalling and smoke rolling.
I let the woman stand there for a moment, softly humming to herself. Apparently Tall Man and company had left this girl in a pleasant frame of mind.
“How much tip did they give you?” I asked. She jumped and whirled around. “Hi, I’m Mike,” I said, leaving the shadows. “Have a good time?”
“God dammit!” She yelled. “You scared me out of ten years of my life! Where the hell did you come from?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Come on with me.”
She followed me across the street mumbling curses the whole distance. I let us into my house.
“Lisa!” Carol squealed, “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
The two women hugged and Lisa took Carol to the couch asking what Carol wanted to drink. She had apparently delegated herself as hostess.
“Who is this turkey?” Carol asked, hitching her thumb toward me.
“This is Mike,” Lisa said smiling at me. “He’s all right.” Now who could ask for a better endorsement?
“How did he get involved in this shit?” Carol demanded. “What the hell happened to Hammer?”
“Hammer fought the law and the law won,” I said. “You didn’t answer me. How much tip did you get?”
Wordlessly she opened her small pocketbook and handed me a folded hundred dollar bill which I ignored. She took four hundred more from her pocket and put all five bills together and handed it to me.
I took the money and took two of the bills and handed her the other three hundred. “I don’t keep tips,” I said.
Carol Miller sat opened mouth and Lisa laughed out loud.
“I told you he was all right, didn’t I?” Lisa said, still laughing at Carol’s expression. “We get to fuck black cock and get paid too. It doesn’t get any better then this!”
I explained the deal to Carol. At first she didn’t seem to understand. But the ideal gradually sunk in. She put the money she still held up to her nose grinning widely.
Lisa moved over to the couch and sat beside Carol, “Now tell me about your date with Tall Man” she said. “I fucked him a couple of times.”
“Hey that Tall Man is a great fuck,” Carol said, “but he can’t hold a candle to the other man. Said his name is Bud. If Tall Man is tall then Bud should be called Wide Man. His cock is not quite as long as Tall Man’s but it almost twice as big around. It took nearly half an hour to get it all in me, but boy was it worth it. Wow, I’m getting horny just thinking about it.” She glanced at me, “How ‘bout it man,” she said to me. “You interested in a party?”
Well of course I was. And did we party! Carol and Lisa nearly killed me, but I would have gone out with a smile on my face.
When I couldn’t fuck any more the girls continued on without me. My last sight, just before I dozed off, was Carol and Lisa in a hot sixty-nine.
END OF PART ONE
I’m not going to deny it. I was having the time of my life. In one week I had more pussy than I had enjoyed in the past year. Maybe the past two years.
I had met with all the working girls on Hammer’s list and most were overjoyed that they were making money from their activities. That cheap bastard, Hammer, kept all the loot they made. Also I had contacted all the women that preferred to pay cash. I refused to think of it as blackmail and I had made up my mind that I wouldn’t do anything to expose them. Things could not get any better.
On Monday night I watched and made a video of a kid named Kristi Curry and an older black man. One hot session! Fortunately Lisa Hurst came by and helped me out. We fucked for an hour. Lisa is one hot banker.
On Tuesday I participated in a real gangbang. This time it was a woman named Vicki LaRue. Vicki put on a show for us using a champagne bottle. I suppose you can figure out how that went. The rest of the week went about the same. More pussy then you can shake a stick at.
Ol’ Mike is living the good life!
I was trying to divide my time between my investigation business and my newly acquired pimp practice. In the two weeks that I had been a pimp it was clear to me that there was not enough of me to go around.
It was early, at least for me, and I was sitting in my office going through the mail that had accumulated over the past few days. Most of it was junk mail that I didn’t bother to open. The rest of it was bills that I didn’t want to open.
The door opened and a portly, red-faced man entered.
“Are you Mike Taylor?” he asked, still standing in the door. He had a deep voice.
“Yes I am,” I answered. I was hopeful that the quiver I felt didn’t show in my voice.
“I am Winston King,” he announced unnecessarily. I had recognized him the moment he opened the door. Superior Court Judge, Winston King. “I have need of your services.” He closed the door behind him and advanced toward my desk.
“Yes sir,” I squeaked. I was getting a bad feeling about this meeting.
“I’ve checked around,” He said fixing me with a sharp look as he sat down in my client chair. “You do not enjoy a spotless reputation, Mister Taylor. I assume you are aware of that.”
Bullshit, I wanted to say, but didn’t. I suppose in the larger view he was right, but I didn’t care much to hear it said out loud. I just looked at him and waited for him to continue.
“Most of the people I talked to seem to agree that in spite of your other short-comings, you do know how to be discreet and you do what you say you will do. I want to hire you.” He was watching me closely.
“Well, sir,” I said noticing that my voice had gotten a bit higher. This man, a powerful man, was the husband of Stephanie King. Stephanie was one of the late Hammer’s ladies. My lady now, I guess. She was paying two thousand a month to me keep quiet about her interracial sexual escapades. “I’m not taking on any new clients at the moment.”
If he heard me, he didn’t seem impressed..
“I have reason to believe my wife is having an affair. How much do you charge to investigate?”
I had a desperate need to discourage this man. “Three hundred dollars a day plus expenses.” I said. My usual rate is one hundred fifty a day when I could get it, which wasn’t often. “However, as I said, I’m not taking on any new…”
“I’ll pay one hundred fifty a day and reasonable expenses. I’ll approve the expenses in advance.” Rude bastard had interrupted me.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” I said. “I guess you didn’t understand me. I’m not taking on any new clients at this time. I can recommend…”
“I’ll need you to start immediately,” he said, interrupting me again. He stared hard at me. “You know who I am and you know that if you want to work at your trade in this county you need my good will. I can make it very difficult for you to retain your licenses. As a matter of fact I think your firearm carry permit is due for renewal this month.”
This fat bastard was attempting to blackmail me! He wasn’t being very circumspect about it either.
“I expect a report within a few days.” He said taking an envelope out of his inside coat pocket and laying it on my desk. “Here is two thousand dollars as a retainer. I have enclosed the information about my wife, addresses and schedules and that type of thing. You will not, let me repeat that. You will not come to my house or my office at the courthouse. Call me at the number I enclosed and I will meet you somewhere. Do you have any questions?”
He might be a blackmailer, but by God he was a first-rate blackmailer. He knew damned well I couldn’t refuse and still be a PI in this town. He had the clout to make my life miserable.
“Well sir, it will take me a few days to clear…”
“Today, Mister Taylor,” he said. Son of a bitch had interrupted me again.
“Ah, Judge, what makes you think Stephanie is stepping out on you?” I asked.
“How did you know her name?” he asked softly.
Oh shit! I had just stepped in it deep. This crap was just going from bad to worse.
“Oh, I guess you saw her picture in Sunday’s paper,” he said. “She’s always in the society pages. I have written down all of my suspicions. It’s in the envelope.” He got to his feet and held out his hand. I took it, but I didn’t stand. I knew my legs wouldn’t support me. “I will be waiting for your report.”
After he had gone I sat there thinking. Actually I was just trying to think. My brain was locked in neutral. What on earth had I gotten myself into? More importantly how could I get myself out of it?
I had to talk with somebody and I needed to do it quick. Thirty minutes later I was at the branch bank where Lisa Hurst worked. Actually Lisa was the manager of the branch.
“What the hell are you doing here, Mike,” Lisa said softly as she glanced around to see who might be within hearing.
“Sorry babe,” I said. “We have a problem.”
“Where do you get this “we” shit, white man?” Lisa was smiling which I took as a good sign. I followed her into her office and she closed the door.
“I thought we had agreed to keep our…ah…relationship for want of a better term, out of my work place,” Lisa said.
“Did,” I said. “Tell them I wanted to take out a loan or something.” I blurted out what had transpired at my office. When I finished Lisa just stared at me a few moments and then burst out laughing.
“You have to be kidding me,” She said still laughing. “You are being blackmailed by the husband of a woman you are blackmailing. That’s too much.”
“Yeah, I’m sick from laughing about it,” I said. I sure didn’t see anything remotely funny about the deal.
“And he bargained you down to what you normally get.” It was apparent that Lisa saw this more humorously then I did.
“Dammit Lisa,” I said. “Get through yuking it up and talk to me. This is serious shit.”
It took Lisa another few minutes to get serious.
“Okay, Mike,” she said. “I really don’t see the problem. Tell the judge you followed his wife and didn’t see anything. Give the bitch a clean bill of health and be done with it. Be thankful that the silly bastard came to you and not somebody else.”
I thought about it for a while. Could it actually be that simple? What was the absolute worst case scenario? The only one I could think of was if the judge wasn’t satisfied with my clean report, he might find another investigator. One that actually worked the case. It was clear that I was going to have to talk with Stephanie King and soon.
I left a still grinning Lisa and headed back to my office. I had no more than walked in the door when who should appear but police detective Richard (don’t call me Dick) Elliott. He had never been to my office before.
“Good morning, Dick,” I said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Richard, dickhead,” Elliott snarled.
“Sorry, Richard dickhead,” I said. I love to yank his chain.
“Look stupid,” He said with a sigh. “I’m off duty in about fifteen minutes, so I don’t have time to screw around with you.”
I glanced at my watch. “It’s not even noon,” I said. “What kind of hours do you keep?”
“Don’t get me started,” He said flopping down in my client chair. “Fucking cheap bastards at city hall stopped paying overtime. I have a zillion hours of comp time and I have to take some of it. Bastards,” he muttered again.
“Hey that’s tough, Dick,” I said. I knew that every police officer in the city…maybe even the country, depends on overtime to make ends meet.
“Yeah, but that’s not why I here,” He said. “You know a guy by the name of David Green? They call him Sweet.”
I gave it some thought. “No, I don’t think so. Don’t ring a bell. Why?”
“Apparently he’s looking for you. Word is he’s asking around.”
“Hell, I ain’t hard to find,” I said. “Name’s in the book and I got a sign hanging out front. Apparently he ain’t looking very hard.”
From the look on Elliott’s face there was more coming.
“You remember that black dude that we shot few weeks back? The one you witnessed? Yeah that one,” he added grinning at me. “David Green is Darrel Green’s brother. Seems that Sweet Green misses his brother Hammer…or misses something. You got any ideas what he’s looking for?”
Could this morning get any worse? I tried to look puzzled, “No, nothing comes to mind.”
“Word on the street is that Hammer had a bunch of white women working for him and that Sweet Green would like them returned. You know anything about that?”
“No, nothing except what you told me that day Hammer got wasted,” I said as casually as I could muster.
“Look, Taylor,” Elliot said, “I don’t work vice, so I don’t give a shit about that stuff. If you got anything to say, now would be a good time to say it.”
My brain was trying to slip back into neutral again. I have known Elliott for several years. We are not buddies, but we get along. From what I know he’s a stand up guy.
“Let’s say that somebody did take over the management of Hammer’s business,” I said slowly. “So what?”
“Nothing except that Sweet Green may kill your ass. He’s real bad news, Taylor. Real bad. Been up for assault, armed robbery and several other things. Just got out of the joint a few months ago. I like him for a robbery a few nights ago. Killed the store owner.”
“Well for pity sakes, arrest the bastard,” I said.
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Dick said with a crooked smile. “Look stupid, if I could prove it I would have already done so. No witnesses have come forward and the surveillance cameras were fake. Dumb son of a bitch tried to save a few bucks. MO is the same that Sweet used last time he hit a store. It’s him all right. I know it but can’t prove it.”
I sat there stunned. Dammit my life was falling apart. I got a judge on my case and now a killer is looking for me.
“Well if you think of anything that would help,” Elliot said getting to his feet. “Give me a call. Maybe I’ll be working, but more than likely I’ll be home burning up comp time. See you.”
I continued to set there staring at the wall. The phone rang but I didn’t want to answer it. The way my luck was going it was the fucking IRS wanting to do an audit.
When it didn’t stop I picked it up. “This is Ben Dover,” I said into the phone.
“Mike, don’t try to be funny,” It was Lisa. “I wanted to remind you that I have a date tonight.”
Lisa had a date with a couple guys. Five hundred each for two hours. “Yeah, seven o’clock,” I said. “They’ll meet you across the street from my place. Have you talked to Allison today?” Allison Baker was another of my ladies. Lisa had taken over the scheduling for the ladies.
“Yes, I have her set up this weekend. I have Beverly Jett also working Friday night and Sunday afternoon. We’ll have to deliver her Friday. Can do?”
“Yeah, can do,” I answered. “By the way, did you know that Hammer has a brother?”
“Yes I did. Why?”
“Word is he wants Hammer’s business back,” I answered. “How did you know about the brother?”
“I partied with him and Hammer a couple of times.” She answered. “Big dude, even bigger than Hammer. Bigger all the way around, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I can figure it out,” I said. “Cop I know came by and told me that Sweet is looking for me.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” Lisa said. “I hear he’s a mean man. I know he has been in jail a couple of times. What are you going to do?”
“It crossed my mind to let Sweet have the business and get the fuck out of the way,” I said.
“Oh no Mike,” Lisa said. “Don’t do that. As bad as Hammer was, Sweet would be a lot worse. Don’t panic, we can figure this out.”
Panic? Me the intrepid PI panic? What was this silly woman talking about? I blithely ignored the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and the sense that I’d shit on myself at any minute.
“Mike, are you still there?” Lisa said in my ear.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I answered. “At least for now.”
I called Jennifer King and made arrangements to meet her at Carlo’s. Carlo’s was a restaurant fairly close to both of us. Steph wasn’t very happy about it, but I prevailed.
“So what the big deal?” Stephanie said when she had sat down at the table. “And it better be good.”
“I don’t think you’ll think it’s very good,” I answered. I told her about my meeting with her husband.
“Oh my God,” she said when I had finished telling her. “What are we going to do?” She had turned so white she was translucent.
“Who are you fucking these days?” I asked.
Steph got that deer in the headlight look. “What do you mean?”
“What part of fucking did you not understand?” I snapped. I wasn’t in the best of moods. “Who’s black cock are you doing these days?”
She got a glassy-eyed look and didn’t say anything.
“Come on Steph,” I said. “I need information. Who are you fucking?”
Her face went from white to pink and then to red. “I see…I know…Ah…I see a couple guys from time to time.”
“Well, there a man named James Killibee. I see him some.”
“Okay who else? Who did you see last.” Stephanie got that stubborn look on her pretty face. “Come on Steph. You’ve been fucking black men for several years. Something happened recently to get your husband suspicious. I need to know who or what.”
“Oh shit,” Stephanie said with a big sigh, “James introduced me to a man a few weeks ago. A friend of his. Sweet is what he calls himself. He and I met a few times. It has to be him.”
“Have you ever met this Sweet before?” I asked. What the fuck is going on?
She shook her head.
“So you didn’t know he was Hammer’s brother?”
“Oh God, no! He never mentioned it to me. What does that mean?”
“Dammed if I know,” I said. “Tell me about Sweet. Did he ask you any questions?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Nothing unusual. Most men I date want to know what a white woman is doing with black men. Most want to know my real name and where I live…that sort of thing. Sweet didn’t ask anything too weird.”
“Does he have any idea who you are?”
“No,” she snapped. “I’m always careful. I never carry any identification and I certainly don’t give any of them my real name.”
“You haven’t always been too damned careful,” I said. “Hammer knew all about you. How did that happen?”
“He doped me,” Stephanie said. “He slipped me some kind of dope and I told him. That will never happened again.”
“Yeah, but it don’t have to happen too often I guess. Where do you meet Sweet?”
“At James apartment the first time,” she said. “After that I went to Sweet’s house. He has a place outside of town. Kinda in the country. House is off by it's self. I had a lot of trouble finding it the first time.”
“Draw me a map,” I said handing her a piece of paper. “Make it as detailed as you can.”
“What are you going to do? Steph had a quiver in her voice.
“In the words of a very wise person, don’t panic.” I said. “I’ll take care of this mess.” I said that with a whole lot more confidence than I felt.
Sweet Green wasn’t the first guy to be looking for me. It’s happened a couple of times before. First thing I needed to do was find Mister Green and get a good look at him, nice to know what your stalker looks like.
Our city is like a lot of cities of its size. Crime and disorder outgrew law enforcement all too quickly. Most of the undesirable element was concentrated in one area. From Hobart Street to Fifth Street and from Michigan Avenue to Broadway, an area of some twenty square blocks, was our area. Bars, strip joints, peep shows, and the like abounded. You know what I mean. Places to get stewed,screwed, blewed and tattooed. The only time anyone at city hall got concerned was just before elections. The cops would swoop in and clean up the place and then forget it until the next election. This was where I figured I could find Sweet Green. Ten dollars here and a twenty there got me the information I wanted and soon I was sitting in a dingy bar, three barstools down from Mister Green himself.
Sweet was in a serious discussion with a white man. Either one of them looked like they could go bear hunting with a switch. Sweet was a bit heaver than the white dude, but not by much. Either one would go an easy three hundred or maybe more. Not much fat on either one of them.
The man sitting next to me paid his tab and staggered out of the bar. I moved over to his seat. Now I could hear some of the two men’s conversation.
The white man had green teeth. I could see that in the mirror behind the bar. Green teeth was saying, “…where’s it at man? You promised me some pussy and I ain’t seen none yet.”
“It’s comin’ man,” Sweet said. “You got to wait a little while more. Did you find that detective yet?” I assumed that was me they were referring to.
“Yeah,” green teeth said. “Anyway I know where his office is. I went by there this morning. I got a question. How did some asshole private dick get your women?”
About that time some jerk put some money in the jukebox and I couldn’t hear Sweets answer. In the mirror I saw him shaking his massive head. I ordered another beer and waited out the so called music. I could only hope some asshole hadn’t put a lot of money in the jukebox. I hate rap!
I could see their lips moving and from their body gestures, they were having a serious chat. After what seemed like an hour the racket stopped.
Green teeth was saying, “…Take the mother fucker out. Simple shit, Sweet. What you waitin’ on?”
“Ain’t that easy,” Sweet said. “I don’t know where he’s got them women stashed. I hear he’s got a house somewhere off Melrose, but I ain’t got it spotted yet. Hear he’s got all of them in one house. Big place, like a old fashion whorehouse. Piano and everything. I’ll find the fuckers pretty soon. Don’t worry.”
“I ain’t worried,” Green teeth said. “I just want some of that pussy. I got to go. See you later man.” He dropped a twenty on the bar and walked out. Sweet hadn’t been too hard to find so I elected to follow Green teeth.
It’s hard for one man to do a decent tail job and impossible if the subject is looking for a tail. Green teeth wasn’t looking so I was able to follow him without any problem. He led me straight to his den. A crummy dump off Hobart street. I waited a little while to see if he came out. He didn’t so I went back to my car. I sat for a while thinking about what I had heard. Sweet was, apparently, the victim of bad info. Somebody told him I had set up in a regular whorehouse. I didn’t live anywhere near Melrose street. Green teeth had gone into an apartment that had a name on the mailbox of Hawkins. A good afternoon’s work. I now knew more than I had. I didn’t know how it was going to help me, but I did know it.
Back at the office I saw that the message light on my phone was blinking. I pushed the playback button and heard a panicky Stephanie King yelling at my machine.
“He called. What am I supposed to do? Call my cell phone, dammit.”
I called her, “Hey Steph,” I said. “Tell him it’s the wrong time of the month, Tell him you got the clap. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to give the brush-off.”
“He knows that I had my period two weeks ago,” She said. “That won’t work.”
“Bull, men don’t know how that shit works. We don’t keep up with it. We don’t want to.” I said. “It don’t matter what you tell him…” I had a sudden though. “Tell him your grandmother died, but that you have a friend you’ll send. He ain’t in love with you is he?”
“No, he just likes white women,” Steph said slowly. “I don’t have a friend to send. That won’t work, I…”
“I’ll supply the friend,” I said. “Just get it set up and call me back.”
I went to my place and got my list out. I called Carol Miller at work. “Call me at home when you can talk,” I said when she answered.
“I can talk now,” she said. “What’s up?”
“I need you tonight,” I said. “You available?”
“You need me or you need me for someone else?” she asked. Carol would fuck me or other white men, but she preferred them big and black.
“I need you to go fuck a big black man,” I answered. “Special deal, so we need to chat before you go.”
“Okay,” she said. “I get off at four thirty so give me another hour to shower and dress. I’ll see you about six.”
“You don’t have to do a lot of math in your job, do you?’ I said. “Okay, as soon as you can.”
Stephanie King called back and told me it was all set. Sweet, apparently, didn’t want to take a chance on a new girl getting lost so he agreed to come in and pick her up.
It was beginning to fall into place. I didn’t know what was falling or where, but…
The next order of business was to get some help. I’m the Lone Ranger and I need Tonto. Finding him was too easy. I looked him up in the phone book.
“Hey Dick,” I said. “Mike Taylor here. You busy?”
“Hell yes,” came the gravely voice of Richard Elliot . “I’m right in the middle of a game show. What the fuck do you want?”
“Yeah nice to hear your voice, too, Dick. I was wondering if the absents of overtime had crimped your account so that you might be looking to moonlight.”
“As usual,” Dick said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I need some part time help,” I said. “Thirty bucks an hour. I thought you might be interested. Are you?”
“No.” he said. I hung up.
Thirty second by the clock he called back. “Hello, Dick,” I answered.
“Fifty buck an hour with a four hour minimum,” he said.
“Forty and three hour minimum,” I countered.
“Okay, deal,” he said. “When do I start?”
“Tonight,” I said. I gave him my address and told him to meet me there.
A little later Lisa arrived and I told her what had happened since I had talked with her. She sat quietly, looking thoughtful, and after a while Lisa looked at me and said, “Mike do you have any idea what the hell you’re doing?”
I wanted to yell at her and tell her that I was a professional. I had training, I had experience, and practice. Instead I told her the truth.
“No, not exactly. I’m thinking that Carol can maybe get information about what Sweet is up to. Dammit don’t look at me that way!”
“So what happens to poor Carol?” Lisa demanded.
I had that covered. “I’ll be right there nearby,” I said. “I’ll have backup. Carol will be fine.”
“So tell me exactly why Carol needs to be there at all,” she demanded. I was back on shaky ground again. I didn’t know exactly.
“I’m still working out the details,” I said realizing that I sounded sulky.
Lisa was still there when Dick Elliot arrived.
“All right Ace,” Dick said to me while giving Lisa an appraising look. “What’s the caper?”
“Caper? What the hell are you talking about?” I said.
“Don’t you sleuths talk like that?” Dick asked
“Sleuths?” I said. “Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah, sleuths, gumshoes, peepers, shamus, sherlocks and hawkshaws. You know, private dicks?” He was laughing his fool head off. I don’t think I ever saw him even smile before. Ol’ Dickie was having fun with this.
I glanced over at Lisa. She seemed to be enjoying his doltish sense of humor also.
“Hey Dick,” I said. “Who you working for tonight? Makes you an assistant sleuth…a junior gumshoe. How about an apprentice hawkshaw? Okay, listen up! I have a situation here and I don’t know what to do. Help me or get the hell out of here.” I looked at both the laughing hyenas.
I didn’t feel comfortable telling Dick Elliot everything that was going on. He was, after all, still a cop. I was walking a mighty fine line.
“So we’re going to follow this woman and see what?” Dick asked when I told him what were going to do. “We spy on her and her date?”
“Yeah Dick,” I said. “That’s what a sleuth does. We watch, we analyze, we report. We never sleep.”
“And you don’t let Carol get hurt,” Lisa said. “Don’t forget that.”
“So who’s the guy? Somebody’s husband?” Dick asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s Sweet Green.” That wiped that silly grin off of his face. I knew he wanted to hang that robbery/homicide on Sweet. I could see the wheels turning.
“Uh Mike,” Dick said slowly. “I got to level with you. I’m moonlighting, but if I see or hear anything that conflicts with my job…”
“I got it, Dick,” I said. “Hell, you can shoot the bastard for all I care. I just want him off my back. By the way. He’s running with a big white guy. I’m talking whopping big. Ugly, too. I think his last name is Hawkins, but I wouldn’t bet much on it.”
“Yeah, I know him. Harold Hawkins. They call him Little Bit. Mean son of a bitch. Little Bit really likes to hurt people.” Dick said, cocking an eye at me. “Damn man, you sure have some nice friends. Who else you going to mention, Charles Manson?”
“I think he’s still in prison,” I said.
“Lucky for you, huh?” he said with a grin.
When Carol arrived I briefed her on what was expected of her. She didn’t see at all interested, she was too busy thinking about black cock.
“Do I collect the usual?” she asked.
“No, you’re doing this for fun,” I said. I saw her mouth start to open in protest. They sure got used to putting money in their pocket fast. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you myself.”
That satisfied her. “Okay then. Anything else I should know?” I had thought about giving her a couple of listening devices to plant, but decided against it. Carol is a sweet girl, but she’s not too swift. I was afraid she would get caught with them.
“No, just have a good time. Remember we’ll be close by.” I assured her.
The city had expanded in every direction except out where Sweet lived. The land was hilly with a lot of rock outcroppings. I figured that sooner or later they would level the hills down and build a shopping mall or a bunch of car lots, but so far it was still basically unimproved land. There was no way you could farm it unless you wanted to raise rabbits or blackberries.
Dick and I passed the Piggy-Wiggly store and from that point there were only some scattered houses that got even more skimpy as we went. The city limits ended just passed the store and the road stopped being Union Street and became state road sixty-one. I knew that the road went nowhere except to a seldom used state park. Kids went there to make out, but there was little else to attract anyone.
“This is sure poor looking country, ain’t it?” Dick observed.
“Yeah, pretty poor,” I agreed.
“You know where you are going?”
“Yeah, I know where I’m going.”
“Got any idea what we’re goina do when we get there?”
“That’s where it gets murky,” I admitted. “Play it by ear, I guess.” He snorted. but didn’t comment. I went passed the road that led to Sweets place. I took the next one and we bounced along a drive that hadn’t seen much use until it abruptly ended.
"Now what?” Dick asked.
“We hoof it over that hill and down to Mister Green’s casa,” I said. “I figure we should be about an hour ahead of him. He’s picking Carol up at seven. Give us time to look around a little and find a good place to hide.”
It took us nearly fifteen minutes of walking to reach Sweet’s house. It was a small frame house that had seen better days. The roof sagged as well as the porch. In fact the whole house looked tired. We waited and watched while Dick got his breathing under control.
“Too many doughnuts, Dick?” I asked. He didn’t answer me, but he used his middle finger to indicate that I was number one. It had started getting dark and by the time we got to the house it was pitch black. There were no lights outside and only a dim light showed through a back window. It was a bedroom. I peeked in all the windows that I could reach. Apparently Sweet didn’t care very much for housekeeping. While I peeked Dick stood watch on the driveway.
“Car coming,” Dick said from the corner of the house. “It's showtime.” I didn’t realize at the time just how prophetic that statement was. Sweet was driving an older model LTD. Like his house, his car had seen better days. From the way the lights bounced around on the trees, his shocks were shot, too.
I could hear Sweet’s loudmouth even before he dismounted from his old wheezing car. He seemed to be in a good mood. Well why wouldn’t he be? He was about to get some strange white poontang.
Sweet escorted Carol into his shack with a suaveness that would have done a squire proud.
“Come on in missy,” Sweet said. “Make yourself at home. You want somethin’ to drink?”
I couldn’t hear the softer voice of Carol’s, but apparently she said she did. By moving through the over-grown shrubbery, I could see in almost every window. I watched as Sweet went into the kitchen and pour some liquor into some glasses. I also saw him drop a couple pills into one of them.
“You dumb son of a bitch.” I muttered. “She’s a sure thing. Waste of good dope.”
When he left the kitchen I followed his movement back to the front room. By the time I got to the window he had already handed Carol her drink. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw Carol hold the drink up to the light and then pour it into a planter when Sweet wasn’t looking. Carol wasn’t as dumb as I thought she was.
Sweet didn’t spend a lot of time fooling around. Before I knew it, he had her up in an embrace. He was running his big hands all over her body. Carol didn’t seem to mind because I saw her reach down and grasp his package through his pants. Sweet effortlessly picked her up and headed to the back room with her. I left the front and hurried back to the bedroom window. Dick was already there.
Sweet literally ripped her shirt off and reached for her skirt. Carol, apparently not wanting that torn, stepped back and took the skirt off herself. She posed for Sweet wearing only a brief thong. Carol has a nice rack and a tight body.
“Damn girl,” Sweet said. “You look good. I’m goina like pounding my cock in you.” He took his clothing off as he spoke. I noticed he was gentler with his then he had been with Carol’s. Even through the closed window I could hear Carol gasp when Sweet dropped his pants. His cock was only half hard, but it fell nearly to his knees.
I took my knife out and wedged it under the window and pried the window open an inch or so.
“You like what you see, cunt?” Sweet asked. Carol was still speechless, but she managed a nod. “You think you’re goina like this cock in your pussy?” Carol knelt down and took the monster cock in her small hand. I suppose that was answer enough for Sweet.
Carol took as much of Sweet’s cock as she could in her mouth and sucked. His mighty tool didn’t get any longer or bigger around, but it got harder as she worked on it. Pretty soon she didn’t have to hold it up; it stood on its own. Over the past few weeks I have seen a lot of black cocks, but nothing to equal this monstrosity. I thought Hammer had a big dick, but Sweet had him beat by several inches. I’d guess Sweet was packing a ten incher. The damned thing looked big enough to have its own guts.
Sweet picked the still sucking Carol up and threw her onto the bed. He grabbed her legs and spread them wide.
“Get ready to be fucked, whore,” Sweet said. He positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy and leaning forward, pushed a couple inches into her. He let go of her legs and got hold of her hips. He jerked her hard, pulling her onto his enormous cock.
Carols eyes flew open and her mouth was open in a silent scream. Sweet hammered his cock in and out of her fast and hard for fifteen minutes without slowing down. Carol looked to be in a state of constant orgasm.
Sweet pulled his cock out of her, and when he did it looked like he had turned her pussy inside out. He stroked his colossal dick a few time and ejected nearly a half pint of jism on her tits and face. Wordlessly he got up and left the room. Carol just lay there with her leg gapped open. She had a look of pure contentment on her face.
I glanced over at Dick Elliot. I could see a sheen of sweat on his face and the night wasn’t all that hot. I looked back in the window as Sweet returned. He had a glass of booze in one hand and he held the other had in an odd position. I could see something white on two fingers of that hand. What the fuck was going on?
Sweet took a long drink from the glass and with an evil grin walked over to the bed. He sat the glass down on a table and then he pushed her limber legs back and shoved the two fingers with the past-like substance into her gapping pussy. I could hear Carol moan as he worked his fingers in her hole. After a few minutes of that he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean.
“I hope your gal don’t have any allergies to cocaine,” Dick whispered.
“What do you mean?” I whispered back.
“That’s what Sweet put in her. Maybe heroin, but I’d guess coke.” He said so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. “Coke fuck.”
What the hell was that? I’ve led a sheltered life, I guess, because I had never heard of it.
Sweet help Carol sit up on the edge of the bed so that she could suck his cock. When she had him hard again he rolled her over to her knees and entered her from behind.
“How do you like this, bitch?” Sweet growled. “Fucked like the bitch you are.” He was slamming into her so hard that he had to hold her hips to keep her from flying off of the bed. After a few minutes of that, Carol started to wail and kept it up for the next half hour as he fucked her. She got louder as time went by.
Carol was facing away from me so I couldn’t see her face. I could see that Sweet had one and then two fingers in her ass. I knew with a certainty that Carol was going to get ass fucked very soon.
I didn’t have to wait long. On the out stroke Sweet swapped his cock with his fingers. Carol made a sound that sounded just like a big dog woofing.
With his dick planted in her rectum, he lifted her up and turned around and fell onto the bed. Carol fell with him, shoving his cock even further into her ass.
I could see the expression on Carol’s face. It was like she was transported to another plane. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing. Lights on, but nobody home.
Sweet kept at her for another two hours. Finally it was over. Sweet got her up and half dressed. He steered her to his car and they left. By that time my cock was so hard a cat couldn’t have scratched it.
Dick Elliot was quiet on the way back to town. It wasn’t until we reached the bright city lights that he said, “Okay, what was it that he was doing to her?”
“Huh? What do you mean doing to her?” I asked. Surely he had seen it before. “He fucked her.”
“No,” Dick said slowly. “That can’t be it. If it was, what the hell have I been doing all these years?”
I laughed, I had somewhat the same feeling the first time I saw a black man fuck a white woman. Almost animalistic. Primordial might be a better word. Not much affection, just basic, get down to it, hard slamming fucking.
“Damn,” Dick said, “I got a diamond cutter hard on and no wife at home. Shit.”
“I thought you were married,” I said.
“Was,” he said shortly, “Took off a few months back. That’s the second fucking woman I own alimony to. I’m thinking the next woman I have will be a rental.”
I called Lisa on the cell phone. I was relieved when she answered. “Hey Sweetie,” I said. “Have a good date?”
“Not bad,” she said. “Didn’t last long enough. What’s going on? I just picked Carol up and took her home. What the hell happened to her? She looked like shit.”
“She’s fine,” I said. “She just got one hell of a fucking. How about meeting us at my place. There’s a couple horny white men who could use a little help.”
“See you in a few,” she said. Good that there are a few people you can count on.
Dick Elliott and I didn’t have to wait long for Lisa to arrive. I introduced them, and Lisa went to the bar and mixed some drinks. “So what happened?” Lisa asked.
We were sitting on the couch and Dick sat across from us. I could see that he was interested in Lisa. Of course after watching Carol and Sweet, he would have shown interest in anything vaguely feminine.
“I didn’t learn a whole lot,” I admitted. “Except that Sweet likes to use a little dope.” I told her about seeing him try to slip a couple pills in Carol’s drink and using coke during sex.
“I’ve heard about that,” Lisa said. “I heard it can be great, or it can be real bad.”
“Can be deadly,” Dick said. “I worked a case a year or so ago. Girl went crazy and killed herself. Another time a woman who had been coked, had an adverse reaction to the coke. She damned near died.”
“Did Carol say anything to you?” I asked Lisa.
She shook her head. “No not much,” Lisa said. “I don’t think Carol has any allergies to coke. She’s used it before, but something wore her out.” She smiled. “All Carol had on her mind was getting into bed by herself.”
“I know what wore her out,” I said. “Whatever else Sweet is, the big bastard can fuck.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lisa said. “I told you I partied with him and Hammer once.” She looked at Dick. “So you’re a cop, huh?”
“Yeah,” Dick said. “Twenty years on the job.” He paused and looked at Lisa, “Can I ask you a personal question?”
”Sure,” Lisa said smiling at him, “If I don’t want to answer, I won’t, so ask away.”
“Ah…er…Well I guess I was wondering what a good looking woman, like yourself, is ah…you know…doing what you do?” Dick was red-faced.
Lisa laughed, “Yeah, I get that a lot. The simple truth is I like sex a lot and I like a lot of sex. This life style affords me that opportunity.”
“I’ve kinda wondered how you got started,” I said. I was rubbing her arm. Lisa scooted over closer to me.
“I was married to a man for five years,” she said. “Couple of years into the marriage he started talking about bringing another person into our bed.” She gave a slight laugh. “I resisted that notion for a long time. One night he set me up. We were drinking and fooling around at home and he had a friend that “just happen” to come by. Long story short, my dear husband held me while his buddy fucked me.” Lisa laughed again, “I didn’t speak to him for a week, but the truth was, I liked it. Over the next year he’d bring in a guy every once in a while. One night he brought three men home. One was a black man. They fucked me all night and I was hooked. The more sex I got, the more I wanted. Too much wasn’t anywhere near enough.”
“So what happened to your husband?” I asked. “How come you are not still married?”
Lisa laughed, “One afternoon he came home early. He walked into our house and saw me in the living room. I was sitting on one black cock and sucking another. Dear hubby came unglued. It never dawned on me that I had to get his approval for what he was having me do in the first place. The poor bastard got jealous of all the men he was letting fuck me. Can you figure that? Funny thing, my shrink said I would settle down after the new wore off. That was two years ago and I sure haven’t settled down.” While she was talking she was rubbing my thigh. “Every dick is new to me, every time.”
Lisa unzipped my pants and struggled to get my hard cock out. While she did that I got her shirt off. “Well officer Dick,” I said. “You going to sit over there, or are you going to get over here and help me fuck this gal?”
Dick didn’t need any further encouragement. In a flash he was behind the kneeling Lisa and had her pants down. She was giving me a primo blowjob and I could tell the instant Dick shoved his cock into her. The suction increased by a factor of three.
Over the next hour or so Dick and I fucked Lisa in every way we could think of. At some point we managed to get to my bed. I guess it was nearly three o’clock in the morning when I began to doze off.
“So Officer Dick,” I dimly heard Lisa say. “What happen to your marriage?”
”Same thing that happened to yours,” Dick said, yawning. “Except in reverse. I wanted my wife to swing and she wouldn’t. Shouldn’t have surprised me. She didn’t even want me to fuck me.
“So you kept at her and she got mad and left you?” Lisa said. Her voice was getting fuzzy also.
“Naw,” Dick said with a laugh. “I found me a girl that would fuck other men, and let me watch and join in. Trouble was my wife caught me at it. That’s when she got mad and left.”
“My God,” Lisa laughed. “You and Mike are both voyeurs. Talk about peas in a pod.”
I guess they talked on, but I was out of it for the night.
I woke up slowly with a head that was pounding. I ran my tongue around inside my mouth. Whiskey sour now had new meaning for me. I was aware that I wasn’t alone in my king-size bed. I raised my head and saw a sleeping Lisa beside me. She looked beautiful and peaceful. Raising my head a bit more I saw Richard Elliott. He looked neither beautiful nor peaceful.
Fortunately it was a Saturday morning. I set my own hours, but both Dick and Lisa were off. I closed my eyes, thinking I would get a few more winks. My bladder protested my laziness.
After I was on my feet and in the bathroom I decided I’d just stay up. When I finished my personal business, I stumbled to the kitchen and put the coffee on. When it was finished I got a cup and sat at the breakfast bar.
“Hey, is that coffee I smell?” Dick said from the doorway.
“Yeah,” I said. “There is some. You look like shit.”
“Fuck you,” he grumbled. “Can’t you afford a better brand of booze? That shit is bad news.”
“I didn’t hold a gun to your head and force you to drink it,” I snapped. He did have a valid point. I could afford better hooch. I was just use to buying the cheap shit.
“Good morning boys,” Lisa Hurst said brightly, bouncing into the kitchen. I could see a terrible inequity here. Lisa drank as much as Dick or I had, and she looked as fresh as a daisy. She was wearing one of my shirts and the tail came down to just below her butt cheeks, however it didn’t cover her when she reached up into the cabinet to get a cup.
“Oh my God,” Dick said. “Now if that don’t wake you up you’re already dead. Hey Lisa, do you know you have a nice ass?”
“Yes,” she answered, smiling at him, “I do, but thanks for noticing. Mike, do you have anything to eat in here?”
“Eggs, bacon, something like that. It is breakfast time you know.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m not much of a cook, so I don’t have much food.”
“Come on gumshoe,” Dick said. “Let’s go to the store. I can pick up my car on the way back.”
“Great,” Lisa said. “While you are gone, I’ll take a shower and when you get back I’ll make you boys breakfast. I happen to be a great cook”
A little less than a hour later we were eating a scrumptious meal. Lisa was indeed a great cook and I told her so.
“Thank you kind sir,” she said. “I love to cook, but I seldom have any reason to. When you are living alone, it’s not worth it to cook. I eat out a lot. Other than the fact that you boys were horny as hell, what did we find out last night? Does Sweet pose a threat to us?”
“Not if I can make him on that robbery/homicide,” Dick said.
“How’s that working out for you?” I asked.
He shook his head, “I ain’t got shit,” he admitted.
“Didn’t you tell me that he just got out of prison?” I asked. He nodded. “Parole?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Dick said. “He’s got five or six years hanging over him if he screws up.”
“Is using dope a violation?” Lisa inquired.
“Sure,” Dick said. “And I saw him with it, but I ain’t got probable cause and I sure ain’t got any evidence. My testimony would get tossed and he’d walk.” He grinned. “He left the evidence up what’s her name’s snatch.”
“He’s carrying,” I said. “I saw him take a pistol out of his pants and slip it under the couch cushion when he and Carol started to make out.”
Dick looked thoughtful, “Good to know,” he said. “If all else fails maybe I can bust his ass on that violation of parole. I’d really like to nail him for that killing the other night.”
I smiled at him, “How did that killing go down? He use a gun?”
“Yes,” Dick answered looking closely at me. “Why?”
“What’s the odds that he still has the weapon he used in that robbery? How about the odds on the weapon I saw being the one?” I said.
“I’d say pretty good,” Dick said. “Dumb son of a bitches can’t bear to get rid of a good gun. They’ll hang on to it even though they know it can hang them.”
“How about your other problem?” Lisa asked. “Stephanie King?”
“I’m still working on that,” I answered, glancing at Dick. I hadn’t mentioned that problem to him.
“Judge King’s wife?” Dick asked. “What’ kind of problem do you have with her?”
“Steph likes dark meat,” Lisa said. “She pays Mike to make sure she has plenty. Apparently her husband is suspicious of her. He hired Mike to investigate.” I would have preferred that Dick didn’t know about that.
Dick looked at me for a moment then laughed. “You are shitting me. Let me see if I have this straight. You take money from the judge’s wife so that she can fuck black men. You take money from the judge to find this out. Is that it?” I nodded. “Strikes me as a conflict of interest, Shamus.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I said. “I tried to tell him that I wasn’t interested.” I told Dick about my conversation with the good judge. That caused him to laugh even harder.
“He’s blackmailing you to work for him?” He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Why don’t you report him to the bar association or judicial review board. No, wait a minute, you can’t do that ‘cause you’re as crooked as a dogs hind leg.” That sent him into another fit of laughter. Lisa seemed to enjoy his shit, too. I didn’t see the humor in any of it.
“Stephanie will keep me posted on her coming and going,” I said. “I don’t have to actually watch her, but this situation has a real potential to turn into a bucket of shit. That ain’t the worst of it,” I continued. “Steph is, or was, screwing Sweet.”
Dick grinned at me, “You do live an interesting life. While we are on the subject of living…How is it you happen to have Hammer’s women?” He smiled at both Lisa and I. “Bearing in mind I don’t work vice.”
After a moment’s thought I told him how I came into procession of Hammer’s photos, tapes and lists. I was thinking, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Dick was silent for a while. He was thinking about what I had told him. That’s what I assumed. He’s hard to read. He may be thinking about anything or nothing at all.
“Let me suggest,” Dick said slowly, “that you consider the “payment for letting them get black cock” as a mild extortion. I also suggest that you discontinue that practice. Frankly, the DA would most likely consider it out and out blackmail. I do occasionally work fraud and white collar crimes. Might want to keep that in mind. Another thing you might want to do is let Judge King’s wife take a fall.”
“What good would that do?” I asked.
“For one thing it would get the Judge off your case,” He said. “I suppose you considered the situation of not finding anything on Mrs. King and the judge getting someone else to do it and they find something…which they most likely will I suspect that might piss the judge off at you. One way you have Mrs. King mad at you; the other the judge is pissed at you.”
“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t,” I said. “Yeah, we considered that scenario. Maybe I can talk Stephanie into a confession.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” Lisa said. “I’ve partied with her and for what it’s worth, she’s a fourteen carat bitch.”
“Let’s say I tell the judge that she’s out screwing around,” I said. “Why wouldn’t she rat me out?”
“Yeah, she might think it makes it look better for her,” Lisa said. “I had to do it because this bad, bad man is blackmailing me, sort of thing.”
“I see your point,” Dick said. “Who do you think he would believe, you or his wife?” He got a sly look on his face. “Of course if you had something on the judge, then the case would become moot. He’s a pussy hound. Well known around the courthouse that he’s fuck a snake if someone held its head.” While I was giving that idea some thought the doorbell rang.
“Oh, that’s probably Carol,” Lisa said. “She called while you were at the store. She said she might be by this morning.”
Carol Miller came in looking no worse for wear. In fact she looked good. Dick gave her an appraising look.
“So how was you date?” Lisa asked her, grinning. “I’ve heard the duffus boy’s account,” she added, pointing to Dick and me.
“It was wild,” Carol said. “Wilder then anything I have ever been involved in. That bastard used coke in my pussy.”
“Tell me about that?” Lisa said. “I’ve heard about a coke fuck.”
“Save that for later,” I interjected. “Did you learn anything about Sweet?”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I thought you were going to be close.”
“We were,” I said. “We were not right there in the damned house with you. We couldn’t hear everything that was said.”
“I don’t think he said a whole lot,” Carol said with a smile. “He had sex on his mind…oh, there was one thing he said on the way to his house. He said he was going to have all the white women he wanted in a few days, but he wouldn’t forget his friends. Meaning me I guess.”
Not much news there. “What else?” I asked.
”Nothing much,” she answered. “He has a lot of dope in his house. He left the closet in the hall open and there were a lot of pills in it. I saw that when he hustled me to the bedroom. Got a big ol’ gun, too.”
“Yeah, I saw his big gun,” Dick said grinning. “I saw him using it on you.”
“I’ll have to admit that he is a fucking machine,” Carol admitted. “Who the hell are you again?”
“He’s working with Mike,” Lisa said. “Were you not paying attention when he was introduced?”
Carol shook her head, “I guess not. A cop, right?”
“I don’t work vice,” Dick said. “By the way, I enjoyed watching you last night. You’ve got a nice body.”
“Thanks,” Carol said. “Glad you enjoyed the show.” She was giving the cop an appraising look.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“Now isn’t that wonderful,” Lisa said. “Our Mike has an idea. What is it, honey?”
“I’ve made a mental note of your sarcasm, Lisa.” I said. “Carol just told Dick that there was drugs in that house. Dick, you and some of your little buddies from the cop shop raid the place and arrest Sweet. Come on, Dick. Why are you shaking your head?”
“Last resort. I don’t want to violate Sweet’s parole. I want him for that shopkeeper’s homicide. I want them to pull the switch and fry his black ass.”
“But wouldn’t the drug charges send him away for a long time?” Lisa asked.
“Maybe,” Elliot said. “But that’s too risky. He might skate by on some glitch. I’ve seen it happen all to often. A faulty warrant, house not in his name…no, I’ll just bide my time and nail him good.”
“In the fuckin’ mean while he’s going to kill my ass,” I said. “I have to be honest with you. I’m not thrilled with that prospect.”
“You need to get your priorities right,” The cop said. “You need to get Winston King off your ass first. I’ve been thinking about that, and I have an idea. Want to hear it?” I told him that I would be very interested in hearing his idea.
“Judge King is a pussy hound. Get him fixed up, make some videos and invite him to get off your ass.” I told him that I thought it was a grand idea and asked if he had any idea how to go about it.
“As a matter of fact I do,” Dick said with a grin. “Apparently you have a wealth of talent in your…how shall I put it…organization? Get one of your women to set the bastard up. I know he likes cool sophisticated women best. Just dangle one in front of him and he’ll do the rest. You have anyone who can do sophisticated?”
“Hey asshole,” Lisa snapped. “Any one of us can do the classy bit. I’m very good at it, as a matter of fact.”
“Well there you go, Peeper. Problem solved.”
“No, not quite,” I said. “No question that Lisa can act the part of an elegant broad, but how do I get them together?”
“Call him and ask for a meeting. Take Lisa with you. Do I have to do all the thinking?” I recognize a rhetorical question when I hear it, so I didn’t bother to answer. He did have a good idea, though.
“This better be good,” Winston King said arriving at my table. We were meeting in a nice upscale restaurant downtown. “What do you…?” He let the question die on his lips. He had spotted Lisa Hurst. “Hello there,” he purred at Lisa. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“This is Marilyn Pearson,” I said. “Honey, would you excuse me for a minute or two?” Lisa gave the judge a thousand watt smile and left for the ladies room. Judge King watched her wiggle out of sight. “Judge you are wasting your money. I’ve had my eye on your wife for several days, and she hasn’t even left the house except for a trip to the beauty shop.” I knew this because I asked Jennifer what she had been doing.
“It’s my money, Taylor,” he said in his nasty tone. “Don’t presume to tell me how to spend it. You just do your job. The young lady…is she your lady friend?” He asked it like he couldn’t believe that such a fine refined woman would be consorting with the likes of me.
“No, she’s just a friend.”
“No, I don’t think so. Divorced, I think. Look sir, I’m telling you that your wife isn’t cheating on you.”
“You just keep watching her. What’s the story on Marilyn?” Apparently he had quickly developed a yen for Lisa. Not that I could blame him. She did look hot in a sexy sophisticated way. I saw her looking at us and nodded for her to come on back to the table.
“Okay, I’ll keep watching if you say so.” I said as if reluctant. “I don’t know much about Marilyn. We just met a few days ago. I don’t even know where she lives yet. Here she comes.”
“Okay,” he said softly, “I’m going to make a play for her. You stay out of my way.” The lowlife son of a bitch was going to steal my girl. I had to remind myself that was what we wanted to happen, but it still pissed me off.
“Ah, now the beauty is back with us,” the slimy bastard said, rising to his feet as Lisa arrived. “I’m Winston King,” he said taking Lisa’s hand and kissing it. “Judge Winston King.”
“How very nice to meet you,” Lisa said gibing him another high wattage smile. “Judge, is it? How nice.”
“Yes it is,” he said. “Look Taylor, you can run along now. I’ll see MS Pearson home. Maybe after we have a drink. Is that all right with you, dear?”
“Yes fine,” Lisa said, ignoring me and looking at the judge. “Maybe a couple of drinks.”
I didn’t have to fake my indignation as I stormed out of the place. Even though it went exactly the way we wanted it to go, it pissed me off to be treated like that.
I hurried to the apartment where Carol and Dick Elliot waited on me. It was one we used from time to time and was still leased under Hammer’s name. They were set up in a spare bedroom with the video equipment Dick had borrowed from the police department. We didn’t have to wait very long. It took less than an hour for Marilyn to bring a panting, horny Winston King to her love nest.
King did unspeakable things to Lisa, however we will speak of them. He was a loud, obnoxious fucker with a short stubby dick. He fucked her hard and fast, and spent his puny load all within fifteen minutes. Poor Lisa didn’t even get warmed up. I wasn’t too concerned about her satisfaction, because I’d take care of that later. I just wanted to make sure we got good video, and that it clearly showed his face. We did and it did show his face.
Our plan was simple. We’d give a copy of the tape to Stephanie who in turn give it to the good judge along with a request for a divorce. I didn’t give a rats ass if they divorced or not. I just wanted him off my back. He showed up at my office a few days later.
“You blew it Taylor!” he yelled at me.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Blew what?”
“Stephanie found out that you were following her. She got a PI to follow me, and now she’s got the goods on me, you worthless bastard.”
“Hey wait just a minute,” I yelled back. “That’s bullshit. There is no way she could know about me. If she caught you with your pants down, it wasn’t my fault.” We stared at each other for a moment or two. “What happened?”
“That whore you were with,” he said in a calmer voice. “She set me up and there is a video of me and her. My wife has the video and she’s going to screw me but good. It’s your fault, Taylor.”
“How is it my fault? I didn’t even know Marilyn. I told you I didn’t know anything about her. Are you sure it was Marilyn that set you up?”
“It had to be,” he said. “Her face wasn’t shown on the tape but…” I could see the doubt creeping in. “Anyway, I want my money back since you didn’t do any good for me.”
I would be happy to give him his money back, but I had to pretend that I didn’t want to. It wouldn’t be in character for me not to argue about it. We settled on giving back half of his money and staying off the case. Judge Winston King left my office and he was not a happy man. He was looking to lose at least half his money and property to Stephanie. I found out several months later that she damned near left the slimy prick destitute. I had a lot of trouble feeling any grief for him.
Now all I had to do was get Sweet off me and I’d be a happy camper. As it turned out I didn’t have to worry about that for very long. Sweet was shot and killed while attempting an armed robbery. Dick was pissed, but he got over it. He really wanted to nab him, himself.
Now everybody was happy. I had my stable of black cock whores and a new partner. Richard (don’t call me Dick) Elliot took an early retirement from the cop shop and came in with me. Not in the PI business, because I closed it down. We are exclusively in the pimp business together, but we stopped anything that might be considered extortion. I think he and Carol have a thing going. I know he loves to watch her getting fucked by one or more black men. But then again who wouldn’t?
I guess Lisa and I are…a thing. I don’t know what to call it. She seems to think I work for her, and maybe I do. She stills fucks a lot of black men and I still fuck whatever’s available. An peculiar arrangement, but it works for us.
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